


a place in the sea where the water is quiet

by kinoface



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Blood, Bullet Extraction, Gen, Nihopalaoa, Video Game Mechanics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-08
Updated: 2012-07-08
Packaged: 2017-11-09 10:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/454358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinoface/pseuds/kinoface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Balthier/Nihopalaoa is my Final Fantasy OTP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a place in the sea where the water is quiet

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't terribly graphic, but if you're squeamish about violence/gore, please take note of the tags and proceed with caution. <3

Damn those fools. He was just starting to break in this pair of breeches, and now there's blood all over them. It spills down his knee, crusting over the fine detailing of the leather. Most likely it will have set by the time he makes it back to the Strahl, and then he'll have no choice but to throw this pair out. He has no use for bloodstains, nevermind bullet-shaped tears.

Balthier settles down against the alley wall, decidedly not contemplating what kind of filth he's sitting in, and works his fingers behind the clasp of his greave to find the blade hidden there. He cuts into the tear across his thigh, opening it wider, and cringes as more blood seeps from of the wound underneath. Next, he unlatches the chemist's satchel hanging off his left hip and reaches into it for a slim package wrapped in gauze: two vials — a hi-potion and a remedy — and a long, thin blade.

If ever there were a time for him to envy Fran's claws... Or her skill with magick, for that matter. But Fran is not here yet, and for now all he has are his wiles and his tools. It will have to be enough.

He measures the remedy with practiced caution, pouring just enough to sterilize the blade and disinfect his leg. He douses the wound with a regular potion that comes from within the pouch, and although it's too weak to heal him, it at least washes away the blood so that he can see what he's doing.

The potion stings like hell where it seeps into his wound. He bites his lip but can't help the hiss of pain, and once he gets started, the first touch of the blade is even worse. He grits his teeth, bites down so hard he tastes yet more blood, but the pain is sharp and throbbing and prickles all along his body. His stomach churns, his head swims, and there is nothing he can do to stop himself from groaning.

The head hunters are close enough for him to hear, but if they hear _him_ they'll come running, and he needs every second he can get. He fights off the wave of dizziness and wills his hands to stop trembling as he sets the blade back down onto its sheath of gauze.

The pouch on his left is for chemistry; the pouch on his right is for weaponry. On the bottom of the right pouch is a secret compartment, and from it he pulls out a necklace with wide, dusty beads and a garnet-colored pendant that looks old and chipped. It's light in his hands, but when he puts it on, he feels burdened by its weight. It is a feeling he has come to expect but can never quite get used to.

He reaches back into the left pouch for a pinch of echo herb that he sprinkles on his tongue. It tastes like lemon and licorice, and when he swallows, it clings to his throat like sticky-sweet honey.

He breathes, and reaches once again for the blade.

He screams as he digs for the bullet in his leg, but the alley remains silent. The pain lashes out across his whole body, and spots swim across his vision. The pendant sits heavily in the dip of his collarbones, the echo herb tastes thick in his throat, and he doesn't make a sound. With the blade, he finally snags the bullet and works it out from where it was embedded in his thigh, and even his moan of relief goes unheard.

The bullet hits the ground with a tiny _clack_. Balthier hears footsteps. A head hunter rounds the corner; he doesn't notice Balthier at first, but by the time he does, it's already too late. Balthier drags him down to the alley floor and forces the half-empty vial of remedy into his mouth. The hunter yells and fights, but his voice is muffled by Balthier's hand where it clamps tightly over the hunter's face, keeping his mouth closed — keeping the remedy in — and within moments, the hunter goes still and silent. His eyes, still wide open and terrified, follow Balthier as he gathers his belongings. He cleans everything off and wraps it all up and puts it where it belongs, each item having its particular place. The last thing he puts away is the necklace.

The hi-potion stings as he pours it over his wound, but he knows that means it's working. He watches it bubble and fizz as it heals him from the inside out. If he lets himself whine just a bit at the pain, well, the taste of honey still clings to his throat, he remembers the weight of the necklace, and the alley stays silent.


End file.
